Letting Go
by ChainOfPaperclips
Summary: Queen Elsa of Arendelle has never married. What if the reason is because her True Love was taken from her?
A/N: This is an old Frozen Jewel fic that I wrote quite some time ago. When I first started writing them in my fic, Until I Met You, Liam and Elsa were a couple that I put together on a whim. But then as I wrote it, I started to really like it. And two of my readers, Clockadile and ActualSwanPrincess, over on Tumblr, also really enjoyed it. Eventually, some other people, such as my friend Anja started to write it into their fics, too, and then suddenly Liam X Elsa was its own fanon ship and we needed a name! Eventually, through a bunch of Tumblr discussion, we arrived at "Frozen Jewel," and it's been a joy to see them pop up together as a couple in some of the fics ever since!

* * *

A gust of wind swept across the harbor. Next to her, huddled in her cloak, Elsa saw her sister shiver. She'd made certain her sister dressed very warmly to receive the vessel that was approaching Arendelle's port. Her advisors had warned her that it was bitterly cold this morning, and although Elsa had never been bothered by the cold, being immune to it by virtue of her magic, she tried to protect Anna from its effects as much as she could.

"You don't have to wait with me, you know." Elsa peered over at her sister. "You can go inside, get warm."

"N-no," Anna insisted with a shake of her head. Red braids swished back and forth across her shoulders. "I'll w-wait with you."

"Anna, be sensible," she urged. "Your teeth are chattering."

"W–what if it's Rapunzel and Flynn? They're our only family left. I want be here to greet them."

"Anna, _if_ it's Rapunzel and Flynn, I think they would understand if you're not here to meet them at the harbor on a day like this. The last thing that they would want is for you to catch your own death of cold the week before your own wedding!" Anna cast her a conflicted gaze, wavering, and Elsa pressed her advantage. "Kristoff would never forgive me if I let you come down with pneumonia."

She sighed, her expression glum. "F-fine," she agreed. "I'll g-go inside."

"And have a warm cup of tea," Elsa encouraged. "By the fire." Anna shot her a narrow look, as if re-considering out of sheer contrariness. "What?" she inquired innocently. "It might do you some good. Relax you, if nothing else; get rid of some of that pre-wedding stress."

"Hmm," was all Anna said. She turned on her heel, and pressed a kiss to Elsa's cheek. "I'll see you back inside."

Elsa watched her sister disappear safely inside Arendelle castle and then turned back toward the sea, shielding her eyes from the blinding sunlight that refracted off the waters. The ship was much closer now, and something about it looked quite familiar to Elsa, although she could not quite place it. She studied it as it drew steadily closer, and after a time some of the finer details became more apparent, but still its familiarity nagged at her, proper identification eluding her.

After a time, the ship pulled into port, and Elsa watched as crewman scurried about on deck. _The Jolly Roger?_ Elsa thought, puzzled, as she stepped toward the gangplank, bodyguards following behind her. The name didn't sound familiar at all. Perhaps she was mistaken, had confused it with another ship. Elsa had nearly convinced herself of such when a tall figure, clad in black leather from head to toe stepped into view, watching her from the top of the gangplank, as if hesitating.

"Welcome to Arendelle," Elsa called up to him in a clear voice. "To whom do we have the pleasure of making acquaintance?"

"I'd hardly call us acquaintances," the stranger intoned, his voice weary as he walked down to meet her. Elsa's eyes widened. His black hair was cropped short compared to the last time she had seen him, and his naval uniform was nowhere in sight, but she would have recognized those startling, cerulean eyes anywhere. "After all, we were practically family."

"Killian!" she shouted joyfully, running forward as he stepped off the gangplank onto the dock. She swept him into a hug. His embrace was polite, almost wary. Patting her on the shoulder awkwardly, he pulled away, and she peppered him with questions. "Where's Liam? What happened to your uniform? Did you get your own ship? Are you a privateer now?"

He watched her, his expression joyless and quite unlike the Killian she had known all her life. For although he was still a young man in appearance, something was different about Killian Jones. Something had happened. Something had changed him and forced him to grow up, not simply into a man, but into someone whose soul was burdened far beyond his years. "Elsa…we should talk," he said quietly.

His tone told her all she needed to know. The news wasn't pleasant. Dread and suspicion mingled together, taking root in her. "Liam? He's not with you?" Killian shook his head. " _Were_ practically family?" she whispered, as her fears began to take root. Frost began to creep along the dock surrounding her feet, and Elsa fought to contain her feelings, her fears. She couldn't let herself lose control, as she once had. Her people might have forgiven her for setting a blizzard upon them once, but twice? She wasn't foolish to believe that their forgiveness might stretch that far.

"Then where is he?" she finally asked, unable to look him in the eye. It would only make the blow that much harder.

"Dead," Killian said flatly.

The silence stretched between them as Elsa fought to stay calm while she processed the news. The one man who had ever meant anything to her in a romantic sense was gone. Taken from her, from this world, without so much as flicker of warning. Somehow, she had always assumed he would return despite the inherent dangers of his profession. He always had before. In her mind, she realized, he'd been immortal, untouchable.

"How long?"

"Four months." He stepped closer to her. "I came as soon as I could. I know you and Liam had an understanding–"

"I'm fine," she said, stepping back. Killian eyed her with a gaze that was both concerned and skeptical. "How?" she demanded.

He frowned. "That's rather a long tale. And a complicated one. But he died–" He swallowed with visible effort, his gaze sliding away. "He died in service to his king, trying to do what he _thought_ was right."

"And was it?"

"No."

She absorbed his words, with all of their troubling implications. "Has it been taken care of?" she inquired in a low, urgent tone. Killian gave a nod, brief and emphatic. "Good." Satisfaction flared in her, and Elsa smiled with grim smugness.

"Elsa, are–will you be all right?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "Of course." Killian glanced down. Ice glazed the dock beneath their feet. "Really." She straightened her shoulders. The world was dull, colorless without Liam in it. Almost… _cold_ , she thought, if the lack of warmth, the steady flame of affection for Liam that had buoyed her these past years, was any indication. Never again would she see his face, or feel the gentle press of his hand in hers, or sense his dependable presence lurking in the background, ready to aid her as needed.

"Liam loved you a great deal," he murmured.

Something flickered to life in Elsa again. It wasn't hope, exactly. It was something different, indefinable, but she wrapped in its warmth anyway, like a cloak, to ward off all her fears. Liam _had_ loved her, whatever else might be said. There was comfort in that.

"Yes," she answered as the ice started to thaw on the docks. "I'll be fine." The cold never bothered her anyway.

* * *

I blame Clockadile, over on Tumblr, for this. Once she put it into my head that the reason Elsa never marries is because her true love was dead, well... I couldn't get it back out until I wrote the thing. Don't hurt me! I still haven't forgiven *myself* for this!


End file.
